A Controlled Apocalypse
by Imaginary Albatross
Summary: Translation into English of "Apokalipsa Kontrolowana" fanfiction. SSHG


Author's Note: My wonderful husband volunteered to translate my fanfiction "Apokalipsa Kontrolowana" into English. Thank you, my love, you are the best husband in the world! I would also like to thank all the reviewers of "Hermione G and the Sticky Notes Of Doom" for support (Cupcake, Akira079, Ninamaria429,AdeliaMaggot, minimonstr9, iron-on-maiden, Avana92, an anonymous guest, iru-ST), especially rafina, who suggested the translation.

Btw, I am working on the continuation of the Notes Of Doom ;D

* * *

**December, 2004**

A tall, terribly thin man staggered to a young woman sitting in an old, worn armchair. Gently, with hesitation, he put a hand on her shoulder. The woman put the book on the right armrest (the left one was missing) and marked the page with a piece of worn upholstery. She sighed, feeling a shaking hand on her shoulder.  
"You tried to break a curse. Again."  
Silence was the answer.  
"How badly this time?" She whispered.  
"Don't you have eyes?" He muttered through the clenched teeth.  
The woman suppressed another sigh and took the man's shivering hand. She helped him untangle the fingers from her hair and pulled him with her. The man obediently went out, extinguishing the candle flame on the table with his fingers. Dust in the room swirled in the twilight, giving the room a ghostly look. There was an overwhelming silence throughout the house, interrupted only by the tangled rhythm of the two accelerated breaths.

* * *

**August, 2004**

Weary of the long flight, the Death Eater clenched his shaking hands on the broom handle. Still, not believing his luck, he lowered flight sharply, aiming at one of the portals. Portals! Who would expect a dozen portals in the middle of a Muggle city?! Perhaps there are more of us, he thought frantically, clutching with sweat-slipped hands, the gold, engraved handle of the old Nimbus. Perhaps there are still powerful wizards supporting our case, maybe one of them set these portals on purpose. The hope he hadn't felt in six years, since the Dark Lord had died at Hogwarts, squeezed his dry throat. Oh yes, the creator of these portals would be worthy of being called the new Dark Lord. The whistling of the brooms and the crackling of the spells cast towards him approached rapidly. He ignored the portals behind which people were. They were too close; a collision would be inevitable. Instead, he headed for a beautiful, flowery meadow, bathed in the afternoon sun. At the end he managed to throw a shiny black object towards the chasing figures, a gift from the Dark Lord himself. Then his world sank into the sound of broken glass, into the abyss of sharp, piercing pain.

* * *

"Why didn't anyone help the dying?"  
"We were catching the unconscious ones."  
"You were catching...?"  
"The unconscious ones. So they don't fall from broomsticks." Mrs. Lovegood raised her eyebrows slightly, as if surprised by the Auror's question.  
"The item that was thrown by a Death Eater exploded and two people lost consciousness." Mr. Longbottom explained impatiently, clearly annoyed by wasting time on the interrogation.  
"Ah, the item, that was caught by Mrs. Potter?"

Mrs. Lovegood's face brightened for a moment.  
"Yes, it was a really great catch. One of the best I've ever seen, and I've been to several Guinevere's matches."  
"Why didn't you move away from the object thrown by the wanted terrorist?"  
"He would fall into the middle of a Muggle city", Mr. Longbottom replied. Now his voice was amazed by the obviousness of the question.  
"Besides, I have the impression that it is such a Guinevere's obsession," added Mrs. Lovegood. "If something flies, you just have to catch it, do you understand? Seekers occupational disease."  
"And the item exploded?"  
"Instantly after touching. I saw a purple flash and suddenly Ginny and Severus started falling off their brooms."  
"There were Aurors among you, right? They were also busy hmm ... catching the unconscious?"  
"Oh, Harry probably was mostly catching. His wife was among the falling."  
"And Weasley?"  
"Ronald was catching Snape."  
"So, because of the explosion no one noticed what was happening with the person you were pursuing?"  
"Exactly," said Mr Longbottom quickly. "We didn't expect a Death Eater to suddenly decide to dive into ... Muggle equipment. Can we answer the rest of the questions later? When we find out what and how is ..."  
"Oh, I noticed," Mrs. Lovegood interjected carelessly.  
"And what did you do?"  
Luna looked at the Auror, raising an eyebrow.  
"The Death Eater fell from the skyall of a sudden and crashed. Among Muggle devices. My father has long said that Muggles have secret anti-wizard devices that trap ones flying on the broom." She pointed at the sky-pointed satellite dish.  
"When I saw what had happened, I decided it would be safer to help the others at catching."  
Hedge, an elderly, graying Auror, opened his mouth wide, stared straight ahead for a moment, then shrugged and dismissed the witnesses. Still wondering about the sense of the conversation he just carried out, he filled in table almost mindlessly in a lopsided writing: "A man, about 60, suspected of belonging to the criminal organization' Death Eaters '. He died during the attack on a Muggle city, the reason for the attack is unknown. Cause of death: blood loss due to collision," here he corrected his glasses and bent over the corpse "with the glass object 'Sony 46 inches Qualia 005 LCD 0% Interest Free Credit '."

* * *

St Mungo's Hospital was swarming with people. Reporters snapping photos of everything with red-hair or with eyeglasses, onlookers snapping photos of reporters, all immersed in the swoosh of owls' wings and newspapers, letters, hastily scratched notes all faling into crowd. Harry Potter's wife and the infamous war hero Severus Snape being victims of a mysterious curse! Rumors and guesses spread faster than the flames of Fiendfyre; from absurd ("... and this potty was another horcrux, created when someone really pissed off you-know-who while doing you-know-what ...") to spoken in a low voice, terrifying visions of Voldemort's revenge.

Meanwhile, on the fourth floor, in the corridor, there was a small group of people waiting in silence for news of patients' health. Harry, pale with pursed lips, stared almost without blinking at the door behind which the healers were fighting the curse killing his wife. Molly Weasley leaned weakly on her husband. The prospect of losing one more child made her face look like a Halloween mask. Ron clutched the hand of the latest addition to the Weasley family — his wife, Lavender Brown-Weasley. Lavender stroked Ron's hand tenderly. Her face, partly obscured by dark-blond curls, was covered in a spider web of scars from the Greyback attack.  
Finally, a healer appeared in the doorway with Neville.  
"They will live."  
The healer allowed the moment to absorb the joyful news, then cleared his throat dryly and continued.  
"As I mentioned to you an hour ago, a curse that affects Mrs. Potter and Mr. Snape causes magic to leak. For people who have been actively using magic for many years, in whom magic has formed bonds with the tissues of the body, it is deadly dangerous. Thanks to the quick response, we were able to slow down this process, unfortunately we do not yet know how to remove the curse completely. However, Mr. Longbottom provided us with fragaria vesca leaves that we are trying to create a magic transfusion potion to counteract the effects of the curse and keep patients alive until we find a way to cure them."  
Neville smiled. A mixture of fatigue and excitement formed a pale pink mosaic on his face.  
"The variety I bred has extremely strong magic transmitting properties. It will be okay, Harry. Ginny will survive. Snape too, of course."  
Lavender looked at Ron with a smirk on her face.  
"Do you think what I think?"  
Ron grinned at her.  
"I want to see Snape's face when someone tells him to whom he owes his life."


End file.
